"Who?"
"Who’s speaking?"
Simon Hale looked around uneasily.
But aside from the bed where the faint light from the high window shone on "Mrs. Vance," everything was still shrouded in darkness.
He couldn’t see any other figures, nor hear any other sounds.
Just then, the female voice erged from the darkness again.
"I’ve been calling you a half-wit, and you still don’t recognize who I am?"
Suddenly, Simon Hale thought of sothing, his face filled with fear.
"July Quinn? What are you doing here? What kind of trick are you trying to pull!"
If it were soone else, Simon might not have been this uneasy.
But July Quinn was soone who had defeated him multiple tis, each ti leaving him thoroughly defeated.
Now, Simon had no choice but to be unnerved by her.
"I’m not the one playing tricks; it’s you."
Simon continued to shout: "If you’ve got the guts, co out. Stop playing these empty gas with ."
Speaking in the darkness left him feeling extrely insecure.
Perhaps in response to his words, the solitary dark cell suddenly beca brightly lit as soon as his voice faded.
The sudden brightness was glaring.
Simon, who had been fumbling in the dark for a long ti, found the light painfully blinding at first.
Once he adjusted to the light, he hastily looked for any sign of July Quinn and saw her standing outside the cell, dressed in a blue shirt dress with black ankle boots.
In her fair-skinned, otherworldly beauty, the otherwise unremarkable shirt dress seed to gain an unexpected ethereal quality.
Yet seeing the woman who appeared effortlessly stunning even without makeup in the dead of night, Simon’s eyes held only terror, not admiration.
July Quinn glanced coldly at Simon, who looked significantly more haggard and seed to have aged ten years in just half a month, before parting her red lips.
"I haven’t even started yet, and you’re already looking like you’re at a funeral. Do I look like a harbinger of death to you?"
"July Quinn, just say what you want to do."
Being caught by July Quinn in the prison, Simon had already prepared himself for the worst-case scenario of being arrested for murder.
Yet he didn’t know, in the presence of July Quinn, that this worst-case scenario was far from the end.
"You’ve already beco a prisoner. If I wanted to do sothing to you, wouldn’t it be too cruel?"
July Quinn stepped forward slowly, the rmaid hem of her dress lightly swaying as she moved, exuding an ethereal aura.
But facing an angel, Simon’s face was full of vigilance.
Because for July Quinn to appear here at night, she must have bribed soone.
Perhaps, everyone around here was brought by her.
So he didn’t believe July Quinn’s nonsense about not wanting to do anything.
"Don’t think that by talking grandly, you can hide your malicious intent to destroy the Hale Family."
But just as Simon Hale finished his accusation, July Quinn laughed.
The laughter, unrestrained and echoing across the entire cell ceiling, beca increasingly eerie.
"July Quinn, you..."
Simon, feeling unsettled by July Quinn’s laughter, wanted to ask what exactly she was laughing about.
But before he could voice his question, July Quinn spoke directly:
"If we’re talking about malicious intent to destroy the Hale Family, I really can’t compare to you."
Simon was filled with indignation.
Her malicious intent to destroy the Hale Family couldn’t compare to him, Simon?
She had already sent him and his daughter to prison, and had the audacity to say such things?
But before he could voice these complaints, Simon heard July continue: "After all, you’re the one who could even harm your own daughter!"
Simon almost instinctively retorted: "How could I possibly harm Rhonda, I..."
In truth, he wanted to say he had killed only an unimportant person.
But he worried that July Quinn was trying to bait him into talking, so he left his sentence unfinished.
But just then, July Quinn sneered, "Are you really sure the person lying there, injected by you, wasn’t your daughter?"
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